


Blue

by killingaesthetic



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Teenagers, Day At The Beach, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingaesthetic/pseuds/killingaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan hasn't been able to see the color blue for his entire life. Nobody can see the color of their soulmate's eyes until they and their soulmate touch. Dan has been longing to see the sky and the ocean, but he never really expects it to happen. But then he meets a boy who changes his entire world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a post I saw on tumblr. Unfortunately I lost the link. If anyone thinks they know what post I'm talking about would you please send me the link?

The sky wasn’t blue, it wasn’t even there. It was simply a void, a lack of color, as if a child was filling in a coloring book and forgot to color the sky. Except it wasn’t the stark white of parchment- rather a looming darkness the most comparable color being black. But it wasn’t the black of a night sky. It was the black at the bottom of the ocean, so dark because there were no stars to light it up. The only break I got from the depressing aura of it all was the clouds that made the sky look like a mug of black coffee with clumps of marshmallows dumped into it.

I looked down at my lap to escape the looming darkness to only find my legs looking exactly like the sky- nonexistent. I was wearing blue jeans and all I could see was a patch of my golden colored skin that was there because of a rip in the knee, and the occasional white colored thread weaved into the fabric. I don’t know why I even had blue jeans or why I decided to wear them on this particular day. Because I couldn’t see the color blue. 

I wish I could’ve, so, so much. Every night when I was little I would kneel on my knees and pray to God I would wake up and be able to see the sky. It never happened of course- and now I don’t believe in God. I said that it didn’t affect me much but deep down in my heart I thought I was still that little boy praying on the floor. Right now I was in the car and all I wanted to see was how the blue sky faded into the English countryside that was rolling by. We were moving, so we had already spent hours driving and the blackness felt crushing. We were moving from a small town close to London To Liverpool. My brother said blue was pretty nice. He could see every color, lucky him. He could see everything because unlike me, he didn’t have a soulmate. People couldn’t see the color of their soulmate’s eyes, not until them and their soulmate touch, so my soulmate was blue-eyed. A blue-eyed bastard.

My mother craned her neck to look at me and asked me, “You hanging in there alright, hone?”

My mother was a hotel manager who worked a small hotel chain called 7 Keys Inn. She was a maid in her early career but she had managed to work herself up the system, because determination was her strong suite. That’s why we were moving, she was so skilled at what she did she got a location change. She was, I thought, a truly amazing woman. 

“I’m fine, mum. You don’t have to ask,” I replied.

“Don’t give me that attitude, Dan,” She scolded.

She had settled to marry a childhood friend because she couldn’t find her soulmate and they were young and desperate. They had me and my siblings together, then he found his soulmate at a bar one night and left us soon as humanly possible. She couldn’t see the color brown, which wasn’t a big deal, she had said, despite having three brown-eyed and brown-haired children.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said “But I’m not a little boy anymore. I can handle myself.”

“Those are words a mother never wanted to hear,” My mum laughed.

A natural silence fell over the car as I watched the skyless landscape pass by.

***

I’ve heard that sound thousands of times, maybe more than that, but I never failed to hate it- the sound of an alarm clock. This particular one sounded like a howler monkey and a freight train had a one night stand and made a love child. It was so fucking loud it had probably woken up the house and the ones surrounding it by now. But it was the only one that worked these days. I’d had problems with being a deep-sleeper my entire life. When I was little doctors were worried I was gonna fall asleep and never wake up. Unfortunately, that never happened.

I debated going back to sleep. If I could just ignore the noise, then maybe..but I knew I couldn’t keep my eyes closed for long. I had family that would get annoyed, and only God knows how nasty they can get when frustrated. So, I forced my eyes open, even if it felt like millions of whatever-fucking-unit-they-measure-gravity-in-I-didn’t-pay-much-attention-in-science-class were weighing them down. I was so tired.

I groggily pushed my duvet off me. The cold air hit my body like the waves of an ocean. I tried to pull myself out of bed sooner that my body was ready for it. I fell, and my knees hit the hardwood floor. I moaned because my old floors were carpeted- I was not used to this. I reached for my alarm clock, which was just barely an arm's distance away from me on the floor. But then again I fell, this time on my face. My nipples rubbed uncomfortably against the ground but I didn’t feel like getting up. I groped in the dark for my alarm clock. Finally, I found it so I flopped ungracefully like a fish on my back and started fiddling with the buttons. I was about to give up and chuck it across the room, but then, it stopped and stood perfectly silent. Just like it never caused me pain. I hated life.

I held the cold surface against my chest, and groaned.

My brother, Alex, shouted, “Get up you big big pussy!”

“Alexander!” Mum scolded.

Today was going to bed a bad day. I could already tell.

***

The school gates made me stop in my tracks despite the heavy flow of traffic surrounding me. They were a menacing sort of black that I couldn’t describe and made of iron. They towered above the students like lion prowling above its prey. And honestly, they terrified me.

I had been homeschooled most my life. But my mom decided that I was ready for school after a while. I was fine in the school in my hometown, because it was a fairly small town so the school was also minuscule. But this school was fucking massive! It probably housed over a thousand students. I couldn’t handle that many people! I couldn’t handle this school, and those gates made me realize that. I could probably turn around, go back to the new house. I could tell my mum I wasn’t ready. She might be disappointed, but she would understand. 

Someone ran into me at full force. I didn’t even have time to register that I was falling until my hands and knees hit the ground. I grunted. My hands and knees had obviously been scraped.

“I’m so sorry!” A boy’s voice with a slight Northern accent exclaimed, “I wasn’t watching where I was going!”

I looked up at him. He looked to be about my age. He had curly hair that was long enough it fell just above his eyes. And oh, his eyes. They were some of the most beautiful he had ever seen. They were a striking green that didn’t quite match anything else. They weren't the color of grass or trees or green apples or whatever else. Even though they were lightly colored they were undeniably warm and had a sparkle that told you there was a lot more to him inside his head. He had and pointed long and face that went along with the rest of his body, which was tall and skinny. I have no trouble admitting that I am gay, that that boy above me who held out his palm to me was very beautiful.

“N-no, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” I grabbed his hand, which was very cold, and he hoisted me up.

“Here, lemme see your palms. I’ve got bandages in my rucksack so I can wrap it up nice and neat,” He requested.

“Oh, no I’ll be fine-”

“It’s the least I can do!” He smiled at me.

He had a charming smile. His teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. And that, combined with his sparkling eyes I could tell could make a person do anything for him.

He pulled out his water bottle and poured some of it on my wound, to clean it I guess. Then he unzipped his backpack and pulled out a roll of gauze. He wrapped it up tightly in a precise manner that my mother couldn’t achieve. 

“There we-” He started, but was interrupted by a crude voice.

It shouted, “Get out of the way, homos!”

“Fuck off, Mark!” The boy shouted back.

“Shouldn’t you be, uh, worried about that?” I asked “He sounded pretty tough”

“The key word is sounded,” He laughed.

“Thanks for bandaging me up, uh-”

“Pj, or Peej,” He filled in the blank and held out his hand.

“Dan,” I said as I shook his hand.

He had a firm handshake that was full of confidence.

A skinny boy with a round face and floppy hair came running towards us like a bat out of hell.

“Peej!” He shouted.

He threw his arms around Pj and gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Pj turned to and smiled, “Hey babe!”

I didn’t externally show it, but I sighed. Pj was an amazingly seeming person, and I really wanted to date him. But obviously that spot had already been filled. When I met him my gaydar had gone off, so at least I was accurate about that part of him.

“Chris, meet Dan. I knocked him over,” Pj introduced me to his boyfriend.

Chris held out his hand. I shook his hand, that was warm, opposite to Pj’s.

“Nice to meet you,” I smiled politely.

“The pleasure is mine,” He grinned, then added and over the top wink.

I laughed despite myself.

“I say, are you new?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Yeah, different accent. Probably from around the London area?”  
I nodded.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, throwing his fist in the air.

“He thinks he’s so cool because he’s good at guessing accents,” Pj explained.

“There’s a lot of reasons I’m cool” Chris replied.

“Whatever you say, honey-pie. Lets get to school, we’re probably in everyone’s way”

The started going, but still, my feet seemed to stay stuck to the ground.

“Dan, you coming?” Pj asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming” I said walking forward, into the unknown.

***

Class was way different than I expected it to be. In fact, it was a drag, just like back home. I had always been an advanced student, the kind that didn’t need to study to ace tests. But here I expected it to be a struggle to keep up. Quite the opposite really- I think this school was behind my old one. 

I was in English class. The professor was probably in his 50’s. He had thinning salt and pepper hair, and a monotone voice that sounded like a robot. He was the type that insisted on you calling him Professor rather than Mr. But I didn’t mind so much, because his class would be easy. He had assigned us to read Romeo and Juliet and write an essay last week, and it was due by the end of this week. Which was especially easy because I had already written an essay that had previously fetched me an A+. So, I lounged back and read.

I loved Romeo and Juliet. No matter how many times I read it, the plot never failed to entrance me. Especially the dialogue. It flowed so easily from the tongue it was almost like magic. English these days is so choppy and simplified but this, this was truly how to speak. 

Someone behind me said, “Like Shakespeare?”

I jumped in fright.

The stranger pulled out a chair beside me and sat down.

He was very pretty, in his own way. It was a non-traditional sort of beauty unlike Pj. It was a shocking kind that left you thinking about him long after you left the room. He had black hair that was obviously straightened and dyed. I couldn’t really imagine him with any other color of hair though, because it seemed to suit him perfectly. It contrasted with his skin that was the palest white I had ever seen. It was like snow. His hair was styled long and floppy similar to mine, and it covered one eye. He moved his hand to push it out of his eye. His hands weren't exactly skinny, but you definitely couldn’t call them chubby. They were a nice medium. But now that his hair was out of the way, I could see his eyes. They fascinated me. I couldn’t see it, but they were blue. But not just a solid color. Strips of yellow, maybe green, and a little bit of brown worked their way from the pupil. They slowly thinned out until they were stringy and thin, and looked sort of like jellyfish tentacles. This formation overlaid a layer of blue, which to me looked absent. I thought Pj was beautiful, but this boy was on another level. He was godlike, I daresay. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized.

“It’s o-okay, I was just, uh, into it,”

“That’s understandable. I’m Phil, by the way,”

“D-Dan,”

He didn’t shake hands with me.

“I like that, it’s short, to the point, but it also sounds so, I don’t know, elegant. Not many people are named Dan,” He said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re, uh, right,” I nodded.

“So, the reason I initiated this conversation was because I was wondering if you’d proofread my essay?” He requested.

I nodded, and he pushed a yellow legal pad towards me. His handwriting was a little bit messy, yet legible, unlike mine. It wasn’t too big, just enough to fill the line. I liked it a lot. I liked him a lot.

As my eyes scanned the page I fell in love with each and every word. Nothing could begin to describe how much of an amazing writer he was. His words flowed, not like Shakespeare of course because that tongue is long dead and gone. But it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t choppy. It was like a story rather than a school assignment. The only correction I had to make were grammar related.

“You’re an amazing w-writer,” I mumbled, handing him back his paper.

“Thank you,” He smiled.

It was the most genuine smile he had seen in awhile. He could lost in it, just like he could with Romeo and Juliet.

***

Lunch, what I always considered worst time of the day. Sitting near by idiots who lost both the ability to think and control of their mouth. I just hoped I could find someone I knew to sit by. As I scanned the tables, I luckily spotted Chris and Pj. But they were making out so passionately I thought they were gonna take off their clothes and fuck each other right there and then. They were obviously infatuated by each other. I was jealous of the spark they had. I only ever had one relationship but it of course ended in tears.

As I sat down, all I could think about was Phil. That name rang in my ears long after the period bell had rang, long after his “see you around”. He was perfect in every possible way. I already knew this despite the fact I had exchanged few words with him. I could just tell he was the kindest person ever. I wish I hadn’t been such a fool back there. I should’ve asked for his number or something. I had should’ve made a connection. But I was too damn scared.

I sighed as I pulled out my PB&J sandwich. It didn’t seem worth eating unless Phil was here. 

Just as I thought this, Phil appeared in my line of vision. And, he was walking towards this table. It was just like a daydream, or maybe a cliche fanfiction. Phil, whom I adored already, Phil, who’s last name I didn’t even know. 

He smiled and greeted us, “Hey!”

Chris and Pj briefly pulled their faces apart to say hello back before they continued.

“Oh my god, Dan! Thank god you’re here. Ever since they found they were soulmates I’ve been third wheeling so hard!” He exclaimed.

“M-my pleasure,”

And that is where the spark began. It took a little time to jump start it, but when it started the conversation fell as naturally as snow. I had never, ever met a person that I connected with on such a deep level. We connected on little things sure, like our favorite bands and video games, but also on an existential level that I never had before. With each word he spoke, I began to love him more.

I learned so many things about him an hour usually can’t get out of a person. He couldn’t see brown, he was bisexual, he loved lions, he couldn’t pick a favorite color, he was born on January 30th, he didn’t believe in God, he was a virgin, etc, etc. Some people are like pieces of fabric. They’re very basic people who are made up of the same thread over and over again. But he was like a quilt- each tiny detail made him who he was. 

“Can I have your number?” I asked.

“Sure,” He said, “You have a pen?”

I shook my head.

“Peej! Pen, stat,” He ordered.

Pj and Chris separated. Chris gave Phil a slight scowl as Pj reached into his pocket for a pen.

“Better give it back, bitch,” Pj mumbled, giving him a jokingly threatening look.

“We’ll see about that, after all you swore at me,” Phil laughed.

Pj flipped him off and winked. He than returned to his boyfriend.

“They’ve made out for most of this lunch period,” I said in awe

“That’s all they do, 24/7, when they’re not having sex,” Phil said.

“Wow, I want a relationship like that,” 

“I feel you, man” Phil said.

He uncapped the pen and wrote his number in the handwriting that I admire so much. The pen moved smoothly across my skin so he didn’t even have to hold my arm. My flesh never touched his. I wondered what his skin felt like.

I stared at the digits, memorizing their pattern. They came from Phil, so therefore they were perfect. 

The period end bell rang.

“Text me, or else!” Phil laughed as he made a cutting motion across his neck.

What a dork, I thought. What a perfect dork.

***

Phil was so perfect, that on the walk back home, I forgot that I couldn’t see the sky. I just thought about him. I didn’t long to see the sky, because I was longing to see his eyes. Why exactly, I wondered, had I fallen so quick? It was less than a day, an hour really. I fall hard and fast, it's a huge personality flaw of mine, but never this fast. He just waltzed into my life as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, and I was struck. 

When I got home, my mum was in the kitchen. She was bent over the kitchen island, helping my sister, Emily with her homework. Emily sat on one of the metal bar stools that were left behind by the previous house owners. I sat next to her, and glanced at her papers. Geometry- easy stuff. 

“Hey, Dan, how was school?” She greeted.

“It was great, actually, fantastic,” I smiled.

“For years you’ve complained about how much you hated school,” Mum said, raising her eyebrow.

“There was just something about this school. And I made three friends,” I replied

“Really? You actually made friends? Who are they?” Emily questioned.

“Pj and Chris, who were always snogging, and Phil Lester,” I answered.

“One of my new friends told me Phil! Apparently he’s super duper hot,” She exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I mumbled.

She gave me a questioning look and before she could say anything else, I asked, “Hey mum could I have a milkshake?”

“You said that you would never have a milkshake after Louis broke up with you because they reminded you too much of him, and you stuck true to that promise,”

I dated Louis for about a year. He was a German exchange student who opened a lot of doors for me about my sexuality. We were passionate and fierce like a firework. We were practically connected by the hip. We didn’t do much talking, which I really prefer in a relationship, but the sex was amazing. But of course since we started so hot, we burnt out. He moved on to a better, sexier, older alternative. And I of course of heartbroken because he was my first boyfriend. We always used to drink milkshakes after school before we went up to my bedroom, so I couldn’t bring myself to drink them. But after meeting Phil, I realized that maybe he wasn’t so great. We had a spark sure, but all we did was physical. I could skip anything physical if I could have a relationship with a person who was mentally like Phil.

But I didn’t want my mum to know about Phil just yet. Having a huge crush on him already seemed childish, and I didn’t want to be judged for it.

“I’m never gonna see him again, now that we’re here, so what does it matter,” Was my excuse.

“Okay!” She replied in a singsong voice, drawing out the ‘o’.  
As she whirled around the kitchen as if she were a tornado, I pulled out my phone. I sent a text to Phil.

Hey!!(this is Dan btw)

Almost immediately, he replied.

heyyyy ;)) xo

What’s up Philly x

hippo milk is pink!!!!(up is a disney movie) x

And the conversation fell as naturally as the last one. Everything he said drew me in further, and further. He was a fisherman who had cast his line and I was the poor fish who had taken his bait. I didn’t even notice when Mum set my milkshake in front of me.

“Daniel!” She waved her hand in front my face.

“Oh, sorry?”

“Your milkshake,” Mum repeated.

“Oh, thank you.”

“What’s keeping you so busy?” She asked.

“Just texting,” I replied.

I looked down to see another text from Phil.

you’re really awesome :p xx

I couldn’t help but smile

***

The rest of the week was uneventful. I couldn’t decide if that was blissful or the contrary. But whatever, because you can’t change life no matter how hard you try. Classes passed by too slow, and my time with Phil passed too fast. I could hardly pay attention in class because I was thinking about him. In English, we would sit together in almost complete silence, except for the sound of pages turning of the clicking of keys. We would read or type, and sneak glances at each other. In lunch though, we would have to talk to distract ourselves from the noise Chris and Pj made. And talk we did. It was a miracle we didn’t run out of things to say. In that week, I think I fell deeper for Phil than I had for anyone. He was the perfect person.

I waited for Phil to come outside. I leaned my body against the bark of a tree.

“What are you waiting for, your boyfriend? Faggot!” Mark, the school bully yelled

I ignored him, because I found that that was one of the best ways to deal with him. He was tiny, way shorter than me. He was all bone and no muscle, so obviously he was just talk. I gave him a bloody nose one day, but he still kept trying to get under my skin. Bless his stupid little heart.

Phil came outside and he scanned the surroundings for me. He jogged towards me, grinning.

“Hey, Philly,” I greeted

“Yo, D-slice!” He grinned.

We had gotten into the habit of walking home together, because he only lived a block further than I. Sometimes I’d stop at my house and sometimes I’d walk the distance with him. But we would always stop at my house and have a milkshake together.

We started walking, arms barely touching. I don’t think we had actually touched each other, which was a miracle since we stood so close.

“I’m taking you somewhere Saturday morning,” Phil said.

“Where?” I asked.

“It’s a secret,” He replied.

“You’ve told me all your deepest darkest secrets,” I joked.

“Not all,” He winked.

“But this secret can’t be too bad right?” I laughed.

“It’s my darkest one yet,” He replied.

“Whatever you say, nerd.”

“Dork.” 

“No, you’re the dork!” I argued.

“Whatever you say,” He smiled and sarcastically beat his eyelids.

His smile was bright like a morning star. It contained everything good in the world. Or maybe, he was just the only thing good.

***

I woke up a smell that I could spot miles away. Bacon and eggs. The smell of meat and oil seemed much closer than the kitchen. It felt so close it was stabbing me directly in the nose. My eyes fluttered open. It took absolutely no effort to keep them open, unlike the first part of this week. I loved weekends.

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!” I heard Phil’s voice shout.

Bewildered, I turned my head toward the source of the sound. Phil was sitting on my bed, dressed in nothing but capri jeans. His legs were crossed, and on top of them was a plate of bacon and eggs. 

“Phil?” I mumbled.

“Remember yesterday when I said I was taking you somewhere tomorrow yesterday?” He asked.

I tiredly nodded as I sat up.

“Well here I am!” 

“I didn’t expect you to be in my room,” I told him.

“There’s a lot of things people don’t expect me to do,” He said.

He handed me the plate.

I thanked him and started digging in. My mum didn’t make a bad egg, but his were way better. I’m sure they did they same exact things making them, but maybe it was the fact that Phil had made them. A little snippet of information can change your entire opinion, after all.

“How did you remember I like eggs over medium, anyway?” I asked.

“You remember how I like my eggs, right?” He replied.

“Sunny side up?” 

He nodded in conformation, “That’s why”

I finished my breakfast, and he snatched the plate from my hands.  
He got up and went to the door. He had such energy, he almost skipped.

“Get dressed, Dannyboy! Wear something loose and comfortable!” Phil called from the hallway.

This was going to be a very interesting day, I thought.

Phil was driving in his mum’s car. I didn’t know much about cars, but it seemed nice. It was nice and roomy on the inside and had a big back. The interior was made tan fabric and the exterior was white. It had a nice radio that Phil said his brother, Martyn, installed.

We were jamming out with said radio. We had almost exactly the same music taste. I would’ve still loved Phil if he listened to country- it was just a nice added bonus. Our current obsession was Fall Out Boy.

We both terribly sang the lyrics at the top of our lungs, and I did air guitar.

“Are we growing up or just going down, it's just a matter of time until we’re all found out!” We were horribly off key. 

Phil turned the volume higher than it already was and shouted along, “Take our tears and put them on ice!”

Then, he turned to me and seemed to direct the lyric right at, “Cause I swear I’d burn this city down to show you the light”

Maybe I had imagined it. Maybe he was just checking up on me. But there was this sort of glint in his eyes that made me believe he knew exactly what he was doing. 

I was distracted by my thoughts to do my air guitar anymore. I just mumbled the lyrics half-assed, but I don’t think Phil noticed. He put the car in park.

I looked around at our surroundings. We were at a beach. I had never been to one before, and it didn’t look much like it did in the movies. The sand was a dull color instead of a sparkling white. The ocean wasn’t calm at all. I couldn’t really distinguish the sky from the waves, but I could tell they were large by the white crests that surrounded them and the sound of them crashing back into the water. And by far the weirdest thing was the fact that it was completely abandoned. Not a soul lurked in the sand. There were no colorful towels or boomboxes playing pop music. No boys in swimming trunks and girls in skimpy bikinis. No food or no dogs barking. I had never pictured a place so quiet, yet so loud.

“Phil, I don’t really like beaches-” I started.

“I know you don’t, but trust me. Even the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea can be a relaxing experience. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I can’t see the sky or the sea,” I argued.

“I can’t see the sand,” Phil replied.

“Why, why is it so empty?” I asked.

“Off-season,”

“Oh”

“Come on, you can do it,” He urged, “Just follow me”

When he opened his door, I could tell there was a slight hesitance before he planted his feet in the sand. He wasn’t lying about not being able to see it, and he scared of what he couldn’t see, just like me. If he was doing it, then I had to aswell. He wasn’t a fearless person, nobody is. He faces his fears. It was time for me to.

I opened my door and walked with him. We were the first footprints in the sand. Soon, the beach would be filled with them. Footprint after footprint each telling a different story with a different person. But ours were first. Like the first footprints on the moon. Except soon the wind would blow them away until they were nothing but a whisper in the sky. I wonder how many other bits of history were lost in the air.

We sat, legs crossed, a few feet away from the shore and watched the waves roll in and out.

“Why are the waves so active?” I asked.

“I’ve asked myself that a lot but I’ve never looked it up. I think it would ruin the magic of it,” Phil answered.

“But don’t you wanna know how the world around you works?”

“If I answer the questions I ask, then what will I have to think about?” He countered.

“Life has a way of giving you new questions,” I said. 

We sat without words. I liked our relationship, because we could chat up a storm, but we could also sit in silence together.

“Hey, why don’t you take your shirt off?” Phil asked.

“I’m not as beautiful as you,” I honestly replied.

“Nonsense,” Phil laughed, “Want to know why I approached you?” 

I shook my head.

“I thought you were the most perfect boy in the whole room, and probably the whole school. I could’ve asked anyone,” He said.

“Yeah, but…” I trailed off.

“Just do it,” Phil encouraged.

So, I did what he asked me. I took off my shirt and tossed it in the sand. I could feel Phil admiring my chest, and it felt so, for lack of a better term, awkward. I had been going threw my entire life telling myself I was ugly. My mother kept telling me I wasn’t but I knew she was lying. My brother told me I was ugly, so did my sister once, and so did I, so that’s three against one. If the whole world saw me I thought they would hate me just as much as myself. But here was a boy who I was attracted to both physically and mentally not telling me that I was beautiful but outwardly admiring me. I felt so weird, but I loved it.

“I don’t know why you keep that thing hidden. If I had a chest like yours I would never wear a shirt,” He complimented.

“Whatever you say, your’s is much better,” I argued.

“Yeah right!” 

“Yeah, I am right!”

“Shhhhhh, you shouldn't tell lies,” Phil shushed me.

“I've been lying this whole time,” I joked.

“Really?” Phil tried to raise an eyebrow but he couldn't so he ended up raising both.

“Yeah. I'm your evil twin brother, Chad,”

“Well, Chad, do you wanna go out in the water a little bit?” Phil asked.

“I don't know if Chad wants to do that.”

“Chad can hold my hand to safe, please,” He pleaded.

I reached towards him as I started speaking.

“Fine, but Chad-”

When he grabbed my hand, the whole world exploded. Not literally of course, but damn near close. 

I could see everything...I could finally after 16 years of misery see the color that I had been longing for for so long. I could see blue. For some reason I had always imagined blue to be one shade. That doesn't really make sense because every other color has many, many shades but I just couldn't picture it any other way. But the sky was a lighter shade while the sea was darker. There was millions of shades of blue making that one picture, that they didn't deserve to be called just blue. I wanted to sit there and name each and every color because they were all so vastly different but they went so well together. I guess they could be called blue, because they were one solid color united together. Like wax melting together. It was so much better than I ever imagined.

I turned towards Phil. He was staring at the sand drinking up the color just like I was. But when I looked at him he looked up at me. His eyes were so striking. They were powerful without the blue but this was on another level. They were deep like the water, so it finally gave a place for the sparkles in his eyes to float. They were beautiful. I could swim in them all day. I didn't care about the sea or the sky, I cared about his eyes.

“So, what now?” I whispered breathlessly.

He sat down so he was at my level again.

“My time on this earth hasn't been long, but I've been waiting for you my whole life. Kiss me,” He replied.

So that's exactly what I did.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm American so I don't know much about the British school system, so I apologize for any incorrect information.


End file.
